


Wear Your Heart On Your Sleeve

by stonerskittles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5 + 1 Things, Blow Jobs, M/M, Tattooed Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3539945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonerskittles/pseuds/stonerskittles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five times Derek tattoos Stiles and the one time someone else does, but Derek doesn't mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wear Your Heart On Your Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting because my first account got deleted.

**(1)**

Stiles's first tattoo is an arrow head on his left wrist.

The pointer end of the arrow head faces him, the black ink standing out against his pale skin.

It's simple, but beautiful. Just like Allison was.

Derek tattoos him, because it turns out he's a professional – even has a licence and worked in a store in New York.

The needle stings as it pierces his skin, marking him forever. It hurt more than he expected it to, even though Derek had warned him about the pain.

“The wrist is a sensitive area,” he said, thumb moving back and forth over the exposed skin. “all those veins. It's going to hurt.”

“Good.”

He starts to cry halfway through, when Derek wipes at the blood and Stiles can see the tattoo. The outline is done and Derek is starting on the intricate lines inside before he fills it in with grey.

“Why did you do this?” Derek asks him after, although the look on his face says he already knows.

Stiles turns away. “So I never forget what I did.”

“Stiles,” Derek starts and Stiles knows exactly what he's going to say. Has heard it from Scott a thousand times already. “The Nogistune did this, not you.”

“It was my body,” Stiles says, hands clenching into fists at his sides. “It was my body that put a sword through Scott. My voice that commanded the Oni to attack you, to kill Ali-”

A broken sob escapes and Derek reaches for him, face consorted with concern and _pity._ Stiles doesn't want it. Doesn't deserve it.

But the second Derek touches him, just a gentle hand on his shoulder, his knees buckle and he's on the floor, crying into Derek's chest.

“It's not fair,” Stiles hiccups, tears clouding his vision. “She didn't deserve to die.”

Derek makes quiet shushing noises and rocks them back and forth but Stiles shakes his head, keeps on muttering.

“Shoulda been me,” he mumbles before he passes out.

**(2)**

Six months later he gets two bands around his left bicep, exactly like Scott's tattoo.

Scott's there this time, holding his hand, taking his pain and making sad faces at him.

“You don't have to do this,” Scott says earnestly with his puppy dog eyes.

“I want to,” Stiles says firmly. That is the fifth time Scott has said that since they got here.

Derek catches his eye and his lips are pulled up in a little smile. Stiles smiles back tentatively.

Things were awkward for a while after Derek tattooed him the first time. Stiles was embarrassed to have lost it in front of Derek like that and Derek kept dropping unsubtle hints that he should see a therapist.

It's better now. Stiles has made an appointment to see Morell and the relief on his dad's face when he told him makes it worth it.

He's starting to let himself heal.

Which is why he's getting the tattoo; to remind him of Scott and his strength.

This tattoo takes longer than the first one and after it's done, Stiles's arm is sore after holding the awkward position so Derek could get all the way round.

Scott smiles at him softly and his eyes flicker between him and Derek. “I'll be in the Jeep.”

There's a minute of silence and Stiles is the one to break it.

“I'm going to talk to Morell,” he tells the floor. “She's going to, y'know, make me better.”

“It'll do you good to talk to someone,” Derek says, nodding approvingly.

“Pot. Kettle. Black.”

Derek looks at him, brow furrowed. “I've been in therapy for four months.”

“Oh.” Stiles hadn't known that.

But it makes sense. Derek is happier these days, almost... lighter. He and Scott talk all the time now and he even showed up to the McCall-Stilinski Sunday Dinner one time. (He even made brownies. Stiles had never been more attracted to him.)

Derek takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. “The fire wasn't my fault.”

Stiles frowns. “I know, why-”

“Listen. For ten years I blamed myself for the fire. I had nightmares of my family clawing at me, telling me it was my fault, that I was the reason they're dead. I-I know now that isn't true. It was Kate.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Stiles asked quietly.

“Because I know you. You think you'll see Morell once and be _fixed._ But it doesn't work like that, it takes time. It took me three months to believe the fire wasn't my fault and sometimes I still think that's bullshit. That it is my fault and I'm no better than Kate.”

Derek inhales harshly and Stiles takes a step towards him, arm outstretched before he thinks better of it.

“The point is,” Derek closes his eyes for a second. “You'll be okay. One day you'll be able to say her name without flinching or feeling like your chest is going to cave in. But it'll take time.”

Stiles swallows, blinking furiously to stop the tears in his eyes from falling. “You think?”

“I know.”

They hug when Stiles leaves, arms wrapped around each other tightly.

“You'll be okay,” Derek whispers in his ear. “I promise.”

**(3)**

A witch comes to town and kidnaps Lydia.

“Such a beautiful throat,” she says, stroking it lovingly. “It's a shame I have to rip it out of you.”

Her nails dig into Lydia's flesh just enough to draw blood, then there's a bright light and they're gone.

Stiles and Derek research while the pack go on stake outs and discover that there's an old ritual that gives someone the power of persuasion and the most essential items needed is a banshees larynx.

It takes three days to find her.

The witch very nearly succeeds in killing Lydia, has the knife just pressed against her throat when the pack show up.

Isaac is the one to kill the witch, despite Scott's protests. He and Lydia bonded after Allison's death, both becoming incredibly protective of each other.

A week after Stiles has an idea for a tattoo.

After hearing that he wants to get a tattoo dedicated to her, Lydia offers to help design the tattoo. Stiles has a vague idea of what he wants, but he's no artist,

Lydia does an amazing job. He takes one look at her drawing and stops breathing for a second.

The drawing is of a wailing woman with her head thrown back, screaming at the air. It's _exactly_ what Stiles wanted.

After three weeks of thinking Stiles decides that the tattoo will go on his left forearm, and it looks like the woman is howling at the arrow head which is actually sort of fitting.

It's his first coloured tattoo. He likes the way the red of the woman's hair looks against his skin and the dark green of her dress.

Stiles kisses Derek after, sloppy and desperate, before realising what he's doing and promptly runs away.

**(4)**

Mothers day is in two days.

Stiles gets Melissa a bouquet of her favourite flowers and a box of expensive Belgium chocolate. Then he goes to the cemetery to visit his mom and sits on the ground, talking to her for a full hour before

He considers going to a store for this tattoo, not quite sure if he can face Derek after the kiss, but the thought of a stranger touching him, asking him questions about something so personal makes his skin itch. So he sucks up his pride and asks Derek.

Surprisingly, Derek says yes.

It's excruciatingly awkward when Stiles arrives at Derek's loft.

Derek isn't looking at him as he sets everything up, waving him over with one hand silently.

Any other day Stiles would go along with it, let Derek do his thing and ignore the tension but this is an incredibly personal thing Derek's about to do for him, more so than any of the tattoos he's done and Stiles doesn't want this awkwardness lingering.

“I'm sorry,” Stiles blurts.

Derek looks at him and frowns. “What are you sorry for?”

“For – _are you really going to make me say it?_ \- For kissing you.”

“Oh,” Derek says.

“I shouldn't have done it,” Stiles continues, babbling a little now. “Not without asking. Or at all. You don't want all of this when you're all of that and-”

“Stiles!” Derek interrupts. “I don't mind that you kissed me.”

“Oh.”

“I was a little disappointed when you ran away though.” Derek adds, lips turning up at the corners.

“Can I do it again? Without the running away this time,” Stiles asks hopefully.

Derek laughs in answer, tugging him forward by his shirt until their lips meet.

“Take off your shirt,” Derek mumbles against his lips.

“Trying to get me naked already?” Stiles teases but complies.

Derek slaps him lightly on the ass. “So I can do your tattoo.”

Stiles ends up sitting backwards on the chair, squirming until he's somewhat comfortable.

He gets her favourite quote, “Life itself is the most wonderful fairy tale,” on his upper back with the constellation of her birth month underneath it. The words are written in a neat, slanted font, the constellation no bigger than his hand.

It doesn't take long but Derek is constantly stopping to check that the lines are straight and to tell him to stop moving.

Afterwards they lie in bed, Derek on his back with Stiles' head pillowed on his stomach who's lying diagonally across the bed on his belly.

“Tell me about her,” Derek requests, lacing their fingers together.

Stiles smiles softly. “She was beautiful. Mom loved to sing and dance around the house, used to make me and Dad do it with her. Dad would pretend he hated it, but I remember he could never stop smiling at her. Every Sunday we'd make brownies and make a fort, tell each other secrets.”

“She sounds like an amazing mom,” Derek says.

“She was,” Stiles says, blinking back tears. “What was your mom like?”

Derek laughs quietly. “Short. Tough. She knew how to get people's attention and keep it on her. People listened when she spoke. She liked to read with us and play chase around the preserve.”

“They were both pretty amazing people,” Stiles says, rubbing his cheek against the light hair on Derek's stomach.

“Yeah,” Derek breathes, looking up at the ceiling.

“Nap time,” Stiles says firmly, crawling up Derek's body and getting comfortable.

They sleep, Stiles's arm over Derek's waist, hugging him tightly.

**(5)**

Scott wants a tattoo, the words “be your own anchor,” across his collarbone.

He tells Stiles it's something Melissa said when he was losing control and it makes Stiles think of his dads Sheriff badge.

Which is how he ends up at Derek's loft, getting a replica of the badge tattooed on his ribcage.

Scott is watching Derek work intently, his tattoo already done. It's his thinking face. The one that means _I have an idea but I don't know if I could pull it off._ His nose crinkles. It's adorable.

Derek pats his leg. “All done.”

“Thanks,” Stiles says as he stretches and grins at Derek. “Movie tonight? We can get take out.”

Derek smiles back. “How about this: we can watch a movie and  _I'll_ make something for us to eat.”

“You're so good to me,” Stiles beams.

Across the room, Scott smiles to himself.

_**(** _ **+1)**

“Honey, I'm home!” Stiles calls as he walks into Derek's loft.

Derek looks at him from the bed and shakes his head, but he's smiling so Stiles knows he's really amused. “You're not funny.”

“Please,” Stiles flaps his hand in the air, dismissing the very thought. “I'm hilarious.”

Stiles watches Derek sniff the air and drop his book in his lap. “Blood?”

It's cute how concerned Derek looks, giving him an look over. What's even cuter is how confused he looks after, eyebrows furrowed because there's no obvious injuries.

Stiles knows he's flushed, heartbeat beating fast with how excited and nervous he is.

It was his first time getting a tattoo not by Derek, and he's anxious to see how Derek is going to react.

“I got you a gift,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head and unzipping his pants. He pulls off the bandage with a wince.

“Stiles, I've told you many times, your dick is not a – _oh.”_

Derek stares for a full three minutes. He doesn't say a word, just _stares._

“I-” Stiles starts, but Derek cuts him off.

“Shut up.”

“Do you not like it?” Stiles asks, a little brokenly. He bends to pull his pants up, thankful that his boxers are still on.

Derek growls. “Don't.”

Stiles stills, pants at his knees.

“Come here,” Derek says slowly.

For a second, Stiles doesn't know what to do. Does he wobble over? Does he step out of his pants as he walks?

Derek growls again, and Stiles wiggles out of his clothes, nearly tripping over the pile in his rush to get to Derek.

He comes to a stop in front of Derek who stares up at him with an awed expression.

“You got this for me,” Derek rumbles and rubs his face between Stiles's hips, just an inch or so off the new tattoo.

It's been years since his first tattoo and the number has only gone up over the years. His left arm is now entirely covered, little tattoos for each pack member; a black cat for Erica, the cover of Boyd's favourite book. He hadn't realised just how much he'd gotten until Derek struggled to find a blank space for Kira's tattoo: her favourite sword that ends up being incorporated with Scott's.

But he's never gotten one for Derek until now. The triskele is small, just above his hipbone and jet black.

“Fuck,” Stiles hisses as Derek bites at his flesh. “This is really doing it for you, huh?”

“Mine,” Derek growls, nails lengthening into claws.

Stiles's breath hitches. Derek wolfing out during sex probably isn't something that should turn him on, and yet nothing makes him come harder. (Except maybe when Derek rides him. The circle of his hips is _hypnotic._ )

His dick is starting to harden, tenting his boxers. Derek licks at it through the material and it's good, but not enough.

“Here – let me,” Stiles mutters, tugging his underwear down.

Derek takes the head in his mouth as soon as his cock is free, suckling on it and looking up through his eyelashes. _Jesus._

Stiles's hips jerk almost accidentally, making Derek take more of his cock.

It takes him an embarrassingly short time to come, especially when he sees Derek jerking himself off, but Derek is doing something with his tongue that makes him arch, hands clutching at Derek's hair.

Derek swallows when he does come and Stiles is on his knees after, tasting himself on Derek's tongue and jerking him off.

It only takes a dozen or so strokes for Derek to come, painting Stiles's chest in it.

“You're cleaning this up,” Stiles says, come dripping down his chest.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://halereyes.tumblr.com//)


End file.
